Unlikely
by elephants are not purple
Summary: How did Booth give Brennan her nickname? Five chapter fic about the when Booth and Brennan met and how Agent Andy Lister became a part of "Bred in Bone". Rated T for some minor adult language and content. Not too bad. ;
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: This is still kade11, but I changed my pen name, just for fun. I am now,** _elephants are not purple. _**This is a shot at something new : )****enjoy! Read and review! Told primarily from third person (limited to Booth) I'm pretty sure that the x-rays that Brennan looks at are supposed to be from an autopsy, but I don't believe that this victim would need an autopsy. So I took some liberties. Don't hate me.  
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**Question: Was Booth promoted after the Cleo Eller case? His office changed and I just wasn't really sure...It would be helpful to know.  
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The first case Booth and Brennan worked together before Cleo Eller.

* * *

The victim was entirely decomposed. There wasn't any flesh on the face, no clothes, no jewelery, nothing. How on earth were they going to set this victims family's minds at rest without even knowing who this was...Agent Seeley Booth was standing at a crime scene staring down at remains that were completely unrecognizable. The victim didn't have any belongings with them and they had no way to figure our who this was, how they died, and even if they were male or female. Booth was very good at his job, but not that good. He could catch the bad guy from the clues, but first, he had to be given clues. He felt somewhat defeated. The agent looked around at the forensics team around him. "You can all finish up whatever the hell you do. I'm going to go find out how we're going to solve this case." Booth turned over his right shoulder and headed back to his SUV. He sped off towards the FBI building, thirty miles away from the crime scene.

**_J. Edgar Hoover Building: Washington DC_**

"With all do respect, Director Cullen, I'm not sure that this case is one that can be solved using the usual people and usual clues. The victim is completely unrecognizable. There wasn't even a small hint of who the person was." It was very rare for Booth to admit that something was above him. He figured that Cullen knew that and would take him off the case.

"Well, Booth, you better find away to make this possible. I heard something about the Medico-Legal Lab at the Jeffersonian. When you get some X-rays, maybe you can take them over to the head administrator Dr. Goodman and see what he has to say." _Crap,_ Booth thought_, more squints. The FBI forensics team was already nerdy enough..._He nodded in agreement and went to his office without another word.

In his office, he thought about past cases. He never had a problem getting them identified and taking down the bad guy or girl. Knowing that he was so unable to help broke his heart. He might have been a tough FBI agent, but he was also a man who was extremely compassionate and understanding. This fact was only really known by one person. His ex-girlfriend, who was also the mother of his only child. Seeley Booth was the best father any little boy could ask for. It was his big heart that made it so.

Interrupting his thoughts, there was a knock at the door. It was Charlie with the X-rays of the victim that made Booth feel so defeated. "Here ya go, Booth. I hear you get to take these to the Jeffersonian. I also hear that there are some smokin' women that work over there in that Medico-Legal Lab..."

"Shut up, Charlie. I've got places to be." Booth grabbed his suit jacket and shoved Charlie out of the way while taking the X-rays. He had no idea what they meant, but he hoped someone else would.

_**The Jeffersonian: Washington DC**_

Booth pulled into the parking structure and sighed. He hated parking structures. If he could go his whole life without parking in them, he would, but he really had no choice. He found a space next to one marked, _Dr. Temperance Brennan_. In the space, there was a big Land Rover Jeep with those annoying lights on top. Booth scoffed at the car and wondered how geeky this Dr. Brennan looked driving it. He stepped through automatic doors and a tall African American man greeted him.

"Agent Booth I presume?" He put out his hand to shake.

"Yes, Dr. Goodman?" Goodman nodded and they shook hands. "Look, I haven't really got all day, I just wanted to see if maybe someone could take a look at these X-rays and help us feds out. The victims remains were decomposed beyond all recognition from normal people, so Deputy Director Cullen thought--

"Agent Booth, I apologize for interrupting, but I have just the person for you. You needn't explain yourself to death." He laughed a deep and somewhat scary laugh. This man's size intimidated Booth a little bit. Intimidation didn't come easy to the agent, but on occasion, people could be pretty frightening to him. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. "Dr. Brennan, could you come here for a one moment." Booth recognized the name from the parking space in the structure. He wondered what the squint would look like. What kind of name was Temperance anyway? did it mean that she was some virgin who never had any fun? Temperance meant self-restraint. That explained just about ever squint he had ever laid eyes one.

"Dr. Goodman, I am quite busy. I have been identifying victims of World War I for hours. I am finally finishing up the last of this area in bone storage."

"Dr. Brennan, please come down here." A few moments later, Booth and Dr. Goodman were standing before one of the most beautiful women that Booth had ever laid eyes on. Not at all what he was expecting. But that fact that she was beautiful didn't make up for the fact that she was an annoying squint just like the rest of them. She probably thought that she was better than him because she could introduce herself with Doctor in the front of her name..."This is--"

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I have X-rays here of a victim that we couldn't identify at the crime scene. I was hoping someone here might--"

"Female. Aged 30-35 years." She switched to different x-rays. She seemed to be looking for a specific one. "Looks like cause of death was this." She pointed to a spot on the x-ray on the skull. Agent Booth had no idea what he was looking at, but he pretended that he did. He didn't want to look stupid in front of this woman. "One single stab wound to the mastoid process. Death by a knife most likely. Death was instantaneous if this is the only wound." She flipped through the other x-rays to see if there were more injuries. "No, just this stab wound. Most definitely murder. I'd have to see the bones to really get a better idea, but I am confident on my current findings." She looked at the x-ray of the skull again She smiled looking like she felt accomplished. "Caucasian."

"Are you serious? You could tell all of that from the X-ray?" She looked at him like he was an idiot. Dr. Goodman did too.

"Yes, I can. When you brought it to me, that is what you expected was it not?"

"Well it was, but I didn't really expect you to succeed. I don't know that I can go back to the bureau and tell them that you did this in one minute without anything but x-rays. There's no way that will hold in court." Dr. Brennan looked extremely offended. The agent didn't mean to make her feel bad, but this wasn't possible.

"If I see the remains, I could confirm what I've discovered from the X-rays." She frowned. She didn't like the agent, he could tell.

"Thank you for you help, but I don't think your assistance with this will be all that helpful." He left the Jeffersonian feeling like an idiot. The bureau was unable to uncover anything about the victim from the actual remains and she could figure all this out just from the X-rays...There's no way. He hastened to his SUV and went back to the FBI building feeling like a fool.

******

The next day, Booth was at work when the guy with glasses on the forensics team came in. Booth could never remember what the hell his name was. "Agent Booth, we found a knife a few yards from the victim. We also found some papers that appear to be letters. Two females writing to each other, but we're not sure which is which. That suggest that the victim is female. The coroner, although he hated that the bones had no flesh, believes that the vic. is Caucasian." _Oh God, the damn squint was right, _Booth thought. And she did it all with just x-rays of the bones.

He thought about that. Booth loved to give people nick names. It pissed most people off, but he knew they secretly liked it. It's endearing. He could call her x-ray. That sounds like some kind of super hero. Pretty fun. After the forensics guy left his office, he tried it out "Hey, X-ray..." No. That wasn't quite right, maybe he'd try something else out when he saw her. Nick names were even more fun when they are spur of the moment...


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: Okay, so it says this will by five chapters. It'll probably end up more, but my plan is five, so the summary shall remain. I hope you like this. I'm trying to really get a handle on the way Booth thinks. I decided that Booth did get promoted after the Cleo Eller Case, so his office is little right now. And I'm not updating What Your Forensics Team Doesn't Know until I hear about some more favorite possession boxes. Just by the way.**

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Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

Booth was sitting in his office mulling over the case. They identified the victim as a woman named Gretchen Vandor. _God her parents must have hated her,_ Booth thought as he read the name off of the file. There was a photograph but they were just speculating the identity from the letters which were not in good enough to shape to really read. Their prime suspect was the girl that she was writing letters to. They were arguing about a man. They had several leads that wouldn't have been discovered had it not been for Dr. Brennan's analysis of the bones. He frowned while he read the file. Although they had all this information, they could have been chasing the wrong lead...He knew the next thing he had to do was go apologize to Dr. Brennan, then ask for her help. He needed more than just a name and photograph. They needed a face on the skull to confirm who this girl was, and maybe more. It was likely that they would need particulate analysis beyond what the bureau could provide. He put on his best charm smile, loosened his tie, combed his hair, and then hopped into his car. He was about to grovel on his knees to the beautiful Dr. Brennan.

When he arrived and the Jeffersonian, he fixed his tie. He wasn't trying to seduce her. She was a braniac. He wasn't even into that. He liked his women smart, but not genius level. And she was beautiful, but she was almost prettier than him. He didn't like that very much. Booth was used to being the one that everyone looked at first, but with her next to him, he would look quite average. He strutted into the Jeffersonian for the second time after parking in the dreaded parking structure and was immediately hit with the smell. It was so...disinfected. It bothered him. Everything in that whole lab was cold, metal, plastic, and/or mechanical. It was sad that these people had to be shut up in that place all the time. He had to admit though, It was better than the basement that the forensics team worked in at the J. Edgar Hoover Building. All it was down there was fluorescent light and low ceilings.

Booth spotted Dr. Brennan and jogged up the platform. An alarm went off and suddenly, all eyes were on him. He felt blood rush to his cheeks. It wasn't often that he blushed, but it had been known to happen. Dr. Brennan was most definitely shooting daggers at him with her eyes. He shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know why he set off the alarm. He looked back behind him and a security guard eyed him. Booth flashed his badge and the guard just slid his card down the slot and the annoying alarm sound ceased. Dr. Brennan looked like she was going to slit his throat.

"Agent--" Did she really forget my name? Booth thought.

"Booth!" He nearly shouted, but only because his pride was slightly hurt.

"What are you doing up here? I can't have you on the forensic platform. You could compromise remains!" He was offended. It wasn't like he didn't know not to touch things.

"Look, I just came here because I wanted to--"

"Who is this?" A woman stepped up next to Booth and put out her hand for a shake. "I'm Angela. Montenegro. I do facial reconstruction, but I'm an artist." Booth was quite impressed. She was beautiful, but far more personable than Dr. Brennan. Booth shook her hand and tried to start speaking again, but Dr. Brennan interjected.

"Angela, please." She gave her a look that scared even the sniper trained FBI agent. "Agent Booth, could you please explain why you've come here?" She was trying so hard to be pleasant he could tell. He should have kept his tie loose.

"I came to apologize for not giving you the credit you deserved. I should have listened to you when you told me what you thought about the homicide." He smiled pleadingly. Angela had these puppy dog eyes that were glued to Booth's chiseled body.

"You need my help."_ How the hell did she guess that?_ Booth thought angrily.

"Yes, Bones," _Oo Bones, that has a very nice ring to it. That's what I'll call her._ She frowned, but let him continue. "We need particulate analysis, facial reconstruction and a confirmed ID. This," he whipped out a picture, "is who we suspect it to be. The age fits and we found letters." Brennan looked up.

"First of all, do not call me Bones. And second, I don't like to let things like letters cloud judgment. Don't tell me the name of this woman, but get me her medical records. I will also need the remains."

"Wait," Booth was slightly surprised. "Are you agreeing to help after I totally ignored your previous findings?" She looked surprised at Booth's choice of vocabulary.

"Do you want my help or not? It's important to me to be sure that the families of victims whether they are 50 or 1,000 years old are informed that we have found a relative. I am more than willing to help with that, but that doesn't mean I'm doing a favor for your ungrateful ass." He was a little bit surprised that she was so pissy. He took her as someone who would just comply when she had an excuse to. Apparently she was a rebel...

Booth nodded and saluted "The remains will be here in about," he looked at his watch. "Fifteen seconds." Twenty seconds later, and FBI team had a large cardboard box filled with the remains of the woman who was supposedly Gretchen Vandor. Within Minutes, Dr. Brennan and her team had taken everything out of the box, assembled them on the table, and got to work. The letters were given to Angela. Apparently she was some kind of computer genius. Booth knew very little about the team. He knew that Hodgins was a paranoid conspiracy theorist, Angela was hot and a geek, and the little assistant boy--Booth didn't take the time to learn his name--just followed Dr. Brennan around and did whatever she asked of him. Booth looked over everyone and contemplated what to do next. He decided to write his number on a page in his note book and give it to Dr. Brennan. It wasn't for romantic reasons, he had a girlfriend. He just needed her to call him when they found what the bureau was looking for.

"Well, Bones, just call me when you've got what I need." He slipped the paper into the breast pocked of her blue lab coat and left the lab. "And I want one of those ID card thingies!" he shouted as he left. Booth didn't see it, but Brennan looked up at him, rolled her eyes and continued to work on the remains.

Two hours later, Booth's cell phone rang. The front lit up with a number he didn't recognize. He assumed that it was Dr. Brennan, or Bones, as he had suddenly decided to call her. He really did prefer that spontaneity. Bones was far better than X-ray.

"Booth," he answered coldly like he always did.

"Booth, this is Dr. Brennan."

"Oh hey, Bones, what did you find me?" He smiled. She was going to tell him not to call her that, and then he'd do it again. He loved it.

"Don't call me Bones. We have a face. We ran it through a mass recognition program that Angela designed--"

"Oo, Angela..." Brennan sighed and Booth could almost see her rolling her eyes. He had only just met her, but he felt like he'd always known her. It was an odd thing for him to feel. Usually he would just have an erection, but with Dr. Brennan, he actually felt an odd affection for her that he couldn't quite explain. It was especially odd because she also made him want to tear out his eyelashes.

"I also solidified the identification by comparing medical records. There was a tibia break that was in her records. The ones you gave me were useless because her name is Paula Anderson not Gretchen Vandor. The photograph you provided didn't match the facial reconstruction." She took a big breath then continued, "Angela also rendered some of the letters. They were about a love affair. They were to the woman named Gretchen and from the victim, Paula. I don't believe they were ever read by Gretchen. But that is pure speculation. I just can't think of why the victim would have letters that she wrote. They're all dated two weeks apart from each other."

"Great. Is there anyway that you can bring me all of your findings?" He knew she was grimacing.

"If I must." She hung up and he leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on his desk and snickered. _Yeah, that's right._

About fifteen minutes later, she was standing in the doorway of his office. It was about the size of the large storage closet that Dr. Brennan had in her office. She had a fat manila folder full of papers. "This is everything." She dropped it down onto his desk and turned to leave.

"Wait, Bones!" She turned around and her face was red with fury. "Jeez, all I wanted to say was thanks. I'm sorry I was a jerk earlier. This is exactly what I needed. And you know, you'll begin to like me sooner or later."

"You know, Booth, I think that that is highly unlikely." He frowned. _God why does she hate me? I apologized..._

"Well, I guess it was nice knowing you Dr. Brennan. You can leave now." She looked so happy that she had been released. Booth would never admit it, but it definitely bruised his ego knowing that she didn't like him. She left without hesitation, but Booth was certain she was thinking that she didn't have to be dismissed to leave his office. He looked around and thought about how great it would be to have an upstairs office with big windows, a new office chair, and a big glass doors so people could peer inside and see how great he was. He sighed and let that fantasy go. He was good at his job, but Deputy Director Cullen didn't like him enough to promote him for a good term of duty.

**_The Jeffersonian: Doctor Temperance Brennan's office_**

Temperance was writing a book. It was about a crime fighting anthropologist named Kathy Reichs. She could shoot a gun with deadly accuracy, knew several types of martial arts, and was a knock out. On top of all that, she was had a genius level IQ. She had everything and anything that she ever wanted, but still, something was missing from the story. Temperance had already written in a fantastic team of scientists who could detect whatever was necessary using empirical methods that were always right one. There was John, the entomologist, Alaina the artist, and the lowly assistant who would do whatever Kathy asked of him, Kenny. She knew that she had to write in another character that brought them together to uncover important evidence that is involved in murder investigations, but she just couldn't decide how to portray him.  
She thought long and hard, and then began to introduce FBI Special Agent Andrew Lister. He walked into the lab one day, charmed everyone around him into working a case. She didn't know where he came from or what he would really do, but she knew that she needed some heart in the story. The science its self would not be enough for her to become a best-selling author. Not that she would ever tell anyone she dreamed of being on that heavenly list in the New York Times. She smiled to herself as she madly typed. Andy was much different than the other characters she'd written about. She knew exactly where she wanted him to go: To bed with Kathy. Now that would make her book a best-seller.

Startling her, Angela walked in and said, "Sweetie, are you working on that book again? I thought you finished it already?"

Temperance looked at Angela. "Well, I decided that it was missing something. I needed Kathy to have a side-kick, and now she does." Angela raised one eyebrow.

"Is it Booth? You're not going to tell me, I know, but it's Booth."

Temperance's mouth fell open. "Angela, if you must know, the side kicks name is Andy Lister. He is an FBI agent who ties the team of scientists together and gives them a mission. He is noble, kind, has a smile to die for, and won't rest until he finds the truth. That sounds absolutely nothing like the jerk who waltzed in here like he owned me." Angela didn't say anything, but she knew she was right. Brennan was very smart, but she was also incredibly stupid.

A few months later, Temperance's book was complete, published, and there was a photograph of her with a skull on the back. Booth was strolling through a bookstore--which wasn't something he did often--when he fell upon it.

"Bred in Bone," he read aloud, "By Dr. Temperance Brennan. Hmmm, a writer, who'd a thought?" He shrugged his shoulders, went up to the cashier and bought the book. When he arrived at home, he cracked it open, and didn't put it down until he had finished reading the last page. It wasn't necessarily that he loved it so much that he couldn't put it down, but he couldn't believe how similar he was to Special Agent Andy Lister...

Booth shut the book and looked up at folded his arms. He thought, _hmmm...I guess she does like me after all._


End file.
